


les fous et les damnés

by dyrimthespeaker



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-06-29 12:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15729195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyrimthespeaker/pseuds/dyrimthespeaker
Summary: It’s been a long time since Dick felt like he had any direction in life, but after a chance encounter with an odd stranger leads to a proposition, he finds himself drawn into a mystery that goes beyond the peculiarities of their arrangement.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was so very fun to write!! I’ve been having a great time dipping my toes into gothic lit tropes and such and just playing around with my ideas for this and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Special thanks to my dear Shreya and Sarah who let me bounce ideas off of them and ramble endlessly about this… it would absolutely not be the same without you both!
> 
> Also to be clear the 'chose not to use archive warnings' is me trying to maintain a level of mystery in this fic. There will not be any rape or underage stuff at all and though suicide is dealt with there won't be any graphic suicide scenes. I've tagged for the fact that there is a past suicide that comes up as well as some amount of suicidal ideation, but there will not be any detailed suicide that occurs in this fic.

Another no.

It wasn’t unexpected at this point, but it still stung. What had happened to the Dick Winters with potential? The Dick Winters who was self assured, ready to take on the day. The one who went places and did things.

Dick sighed and resisted the urge to crumple up his resume in his hand as he walked out of the building. They hadn’t even wanted to take it.

He knew what it looked like. A veteran who once had glowing commendations and a list of college leadership positions who had bounced from one menial job to the next upon leaving the army. It looked like he couldn’t handle the civilian world and hiring him was more likely to be a hindrance than an asset.

Normally after a setback like this he would return to his rundown little apartment and give himself the afternoon to formulate a new plan. New place to interview, new strategy. But that was out the window now that he’d been evicted.

He wasn’t quite sure how it got to this point. The Dick Winters he had always been would never have fallen so far behind on rent. He didn’t even have the excuse of habit or vice to drain his money and his attention. No, instead it had been incredibly mundane circumstances that had led him to find himself and his meager belongings on the curb.

It was by the good grace of his somehow still strong friendships that he had at least avoided the streets. Harry and Kitty had been gracious enough to let him stay with them, but with their baby on the way he knew he needed to figure out a plan before he overstayed his welcome. He knew they were happy to have him and it was better than the first week when he’d had to rotate couch to couch between various friends before the Welshes told him in no uncertain terms they expected him in their guest room (soon to be nursery) until he was back on his feet.

But who knew when that would be.

Dick wasn’t particularly prone to defeatist thoughts and in fact, the idea of retreat usually sent a spark of anger and determination through his gut. But he was just so tired. It was his nature to fight, not loudly, not crassly, but with stubborn determination. Something in his essence had been stripped away, leaving him this. This hollow man in the shape of the Dick Winters who once was.

He’d laugh at the overblown melancholia of his own thoughts if he had the energy.

Dick made his way into a coffee shop. A small independent place, hoping to find it quieter and more personal than the busy gleaming Starbucks down the block. To his relief it was exactly that, quiet and intimate. Individuals and couples spread into the nooks of the room, happy to keep their conversations to a pleasant white noise level.

Ordering a simple cup of coffee, he made his way to a table in the back, tucked even further away from everyone. He needed some time to think before he could go back to Harry and Kitty’s. He couldn’t stand the thought of having to tell them he’d failed yet again and even worse was that he knew they wouldn’t be upset. No, they’d encourage him and say that obviously the business was terrible else they never would have passed Dick up.

The idea of having to stomach that… he definitely needed a little time before he was ready to face them. Maybe he could find a few more open positions and start sending more applications while he was drinking his coffee. That way he’d at least have something to show for the day.

He was looking through his phone, scrolling somewhat mindlessly through various job postings when he felt a presence before him. Looking up he saw a man, around his age, with dark hair and dark eyes. He looked a bit rumpled, but in a careless way and the quality of his clothes spoke to wealth.

“Yes?”

“I was sitting here.” The man gestured to a nearly empty mug on the table that Dick had somehow overlooked in his haze.

Dick blushed lightly and made to stand up. “Sorry, my apologies. I didn’t see—”

The man shook his head and smiled. “It’s fine, I don’t mind.” He took his seat across from Dick and picked up his mug.

Dick wasn’t quite sure how to react. He didn’t really want company, but he also didn’t want to make a scene. Having to navigate the exceptionally awkward situation of a stranger forcing kinship wasn’t at all something he felt he had the capacity to handle.

It was while he was mulling over what to do that the other man reached out and picked up Dick’s resume from the table and started to read.

“A resume?” The man looked it over, pulling it back sharply when Dick reached out to take it, his eyes quickly scanning down the page before looking back up at Dick. “And with a frown like that I’d say you aren’t confident you’re going to get the job.”

“I didn’t."

“Hm?”

“The job. I didn’t get it.”

“Ah. My condolences.”

Dick shrugged and reached for his resume again, only for the other man to pull it further from his grasp.

“So,” he looked down at the resume, “Richard Winters.”

“Dick.”

“Dick.” He stuck his hand out. “Lewis Nixon.”

“Lewis.” Dick shook his hand.

Lewis gave him a little smirk. “Nix.”

“Nix,” Dick corrected himself, feeling off center. Like he’d entered a battle of wits he neither agreed to, nor knew the rules for.

Nix looked down at the resume again, a small furrow on his brow as he read it in more detail instead of just glancing over it. Dick let him, seeing no point in trying to argue. Nix had already made it clear that for whatever reason he was going to make both his presence and opinions known.

He wondered if it would be rude of him to go back to his job search on his phone while Nix gleaned whatever enjoyment he was getting from reading a stranger’s resume. He took a sip of his coffee and waited to see if Nix would tire of it soon.

“You’ve got too many hard skills, not enough soft skills on here.”

“I think it’s more the inconsistency of holding anything down,” Dick replied, being more candid in his struggles that he’d been in a while. Not that the pattern of short lived jobs was exactly a secret.

“You can sell inconsistency, you just rebrand it. Talk yourself up. Don’t be so technical. These are all hard stats, but there’s more to you. You can’t forget the human factor.” Nix gestured to Dick vaguely. “There’s got to be a reason you were a leader. _Soft skills_.”

Dick sighed, unsure whether he wanted to defend himself or let Nix run roughshod over his resume with no input from him.

“What is it you want?” Nix asked, staring Dick down with a sharp focus he hadn’t previously shown.

Dick was uncomfortable under the scrutiny, but he didn’t allow it to show. What did he want? He wasn’t sure anymore. The most pressing seemed to be money so he could stop imposing on his friends and get back to being the self sufficient man he’d always thought he was.

“A job.”

Nix grinned and sat back in his seat, dropping the intensity he’d had a moment before and letting Dick’s resume fall flat across the table. “Hell, shape this up and you can get any old job if that’s all you want.”

“Do you do HR for a living?” It would explain the familiarity with resumes and his insistence with helping tackle job search issues.

Nix laughed, “No, I’ve never worked a day in my life.”

The sentiment was antithetical to Dick’s own philosophy and normally he’d find it almost repulsive, but there was something about Nix that made it oddly charming.

He took another sip of his coffee to excuse himself from having to respond. Nix picked up his mug as well and they fell into a companionable silence. It wasn’t tense exactly, both of them seeming content to just drink their coffee, but there was an edge to the air. A crackling of energy or anticipation, though Dick wasn’t sure if it came from his still lingering questions about why Nix had joined him or if it was something inherent to Nix himself.

As the moment stretched on Dick found himself back in his head. Soft skills. Maybe Nix was right and he needed to try to show the human side of himself more. The issue was he wasn’t sure how to. He didn’t think of himself as particularly adept at interpersonal interactions and he always struggled to speak to his own characteristics unless they were something that could be measured and quantified.

It wasn’t that he was insecure really, he had always felt extremely secure in himself as a leader. But to explain it to others it always ended with him feeling like he hadn’t done much and if he tried to sell his personality rather than his skills he would wind up overblowing things and bragging about perfectly standard human behavior.

His train of thought was interrupted as his eye caught movement across the table, which brought him back out of his head.

Nix had procured a pen from somewhere and was scribbling something on a piece of paper. He stood and held it out to Dick. “Call me.”

Dick took at it and saw it was a number. “Why?” He wasn’t sure where else to go with the question so he let it hang there, the one word enough to encapsulate his confusion.

Nix just winked, then turned and walked out.

Dick was left staring, unsure what to think. Nix had been in and out of his life so quickly, yet left behind an impression. The feeling of absence in his wake, but rather than hollow it felt heavy. Dick almost felt like he should follow him, but the idea was absurd and he cast it aside quickly.

Nix had also left behind his empty coffee mug, Dick noticed to his chagrin. At least he was also drinking out of a ceramic mug and could just take both up to the counter together. It was inconsiderate and Dick felt an echo of indignation, though it faded almost as quickly as it had come. He looked at his phone and found somehow it was nearing dinnertime. He wasn’t quite sure how time had slipped away from him so easily, had he really sat with Nix for that long?

Shoving his phone back in his pocket, he neatly folded up his resume and took the empty mugs up the the counter for the barista to wash. The barista gave him a smile and a nod as she took them around the corner to the small back kitchen. Dick lingered for a moment before fishing a dollar out of his pocket. He’d already tipped his change when he bought his coffee, but knowing how long he’d taken up space in the little shop made him feel like he should compensate them somehow.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

He stood and waited at the bus stop, alternating between thinking about job prospects and what to tell Harry and Kitty about that and his encounter with Nix and what to tell Harry and Kitty about _that_.

It wasn’t until he was on the bus and pulling out his wallet that he realized that in tipping more he’d gone ahead and shorted himself on his fare. Embarrassment and horror curled around his gut as he realized there was no way he could possibly go ask for his dollar back out of the tip jar. He stood frozen, his partial fare in hand as his brain frantically tried to come up with a solution and wondered just how inconvenient it would be to ask Harry to come drive out and pick him up. The sound of blood rushing in his ears tuned out the passengers around him and he found his vision tunneling in on the money in his palm. It only got worse as he realized he was standing still on the bus blocking everyone else from entering and slowing down the schedule and now everyone was going to be late and he still didn’t have a ride and why couldn’t he just move?

A slightly shaky hand beside Dick held out some money and the bus driver nodded. Dick found himself being shepherded gently forward by the old lady who had just paid both their fares.

“Thank you, ma’am,” his voice sounded calm to his ears, somehow not betraying the unsteadiness he felt tingling through him.

She smiled and patted his still outstretched hand before seating herself in the nearest handicapped spot.

He lowered his hand and his head and shuffled to a standing position near the back. Holding one of the overhead loops seemed to serve as a tether, despite the sway of the bus itself. Focusing on the feel of the plastic fabric loop, the texture against his skin and the way the edge cut into his hand brought him back to himself more clearly. He felt exhausted and drawn thin and he hoped he would be able to go to bed with as little conversation as possible once he got back to his temporary home.

* * *

 

Dick was careful to be quiet as he let himself back in the house after his morning run. Harry and Kitty weren’t awake yet, neither of them slept particularly late unless it was the weekend, but neither of them woke with the sunrise like Dick. He set his running shoes in their dedicated place before taking a brief shower and making his way to the kitchen.

He started a pot of coffee and grabbed a big tin of quick oats from the cabinet. Harry always scrunched his nose at it, preferring the pre flavored and sweetened varieties, but Dick was of the opinion that if you topped it with some fresh fruit and maybe a little honey if you were really in the mood for something sweet, the plain stuff was just fine. Besides the flavored types always charged a premium that Dick didn’t find worth it.

As he listened to the coffee maker sputter to life and begin to brew and waited for water to heat up enough to make his oatmeal, his eye was drawn to his jacket hanging on a hook by the front door. It was perfectly ordinary, a nondescript jacket hanging in a line of other jackets, exactly where it belonged.

But in the pocket he knew Nix’s note was still waiting.

The little piece of paper felt like it was burning a hole through the fabric and into Dick’s mind. Dick had found himself to be rather absent minded lately, but there was something about the note that stuck like a weight. Drawing him back. Was it the oddity of Nix? Something so bizarre naturally drawing attention as the human drive to understand pushed Dick to remember?

Dick ate his oatmeal, this morning with a generous handful of assorted fresh berries. Kitty had been craving them fiercely up until a few days ago when her focus had suddenly switched to citrus fruits. Harry and Dick were now doing their best to eat up the berries that remained from Harry’s over enthusiastic craving fulfilling shopping spree. Dick eyed the new mountain of grapefruit that sat in a large mixing bowl on the counter. Those would be a bit more difficult to go through as quickly as the berries if Kitty lost interest, though luckily they were hardier and could last a bit longer. And besides, Dick was just grateful to be in a position where an abundance of fresh fruit could be counted as even a slight annoyance.

He rinsed his bowl and placed it in the dishwasher, then poured a second cup of coffee. His gaze flickered back over to his jacket.

Should he?

It was strange, but really was there anything to lose just by calling?

He crept over to his jacket, feeling like he was doing something secret. The tingle of anxiety over getting caught crept up his spine, though there was no reason for it. He was allowed to use his own phone to call whoever he wanted. In fact, his own hesitant behavior would call his actions into question more than the simple fact that he was making a phone call.

He tried to brush it off and relax his posture as he leaned back against the counter and entered the digits into his phone. His thumb hesitated over the call button and he gave a cursory glance around, listening out for any evidence that his housemates had woken, but the house was silent.

He called and held the phone up to his ear.

The line rang through until he got to Nix’s voicemail.

Nix’s voice, just as self assured as in the coffee shop, spoke, “Lewis Nixon, please leave a message.”

Dick hung up.

It would be another few days before Dick tried again.

This time it was well into the afternoon, both Harry and Kitty were at work and Dick was considering what to make them all for dinner. He unlocked his phone to open a recipe app and see if that helped him decide on something. While he was prepping he could play a news podcast and see what had been going on, nothing too heavy, just a general sort of news with more emphasis on human interest and science stories rather than mainstream political stuff. He wasn’t sure he could deal with that right now.

But instead he found himself navigating to the phone app and there, under recent, was Nix’s number. His thumb hovered for a moment before he pressed call.

“Hello?” Nix sounded somewhat irritated.

Dick hesitated a moment too long.

" _Hello?_ ” Nix repeated, even more pointed this time.

“Hi, sorry, it’s Dick. From the—”

“Coffee shop,” Nix finished for him, now sounding in much better spirits, “I remember.”

“You said to call and I…” Dick trailed off. Nix had said to call, but he hadn’t said why. Dick didn’t know why he was calling. How could he hold a conversation when he didn’t even know what they were supposed to be talking about? And unlike in the coffee shop where they were at least in person and could let pauses in more frequently, over the phone it was necessary that Dick keep up a steady stream of conversing.

He was vaguely aware that Nix had been talking, but he tuned back in only in time to hear him ask, “...on Friday?”

“Huh?”

“Friday. Dinner. Are you available?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.”

“Good. The reservation will be at La Folie under ‘Nixon’ at eight.”

“Okay.” Dick wasn’t sure what else to say. Nix made it sound so decided and he’d already agreed, though that was more out of shock than real consideration for the question at hand.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go,” Nix did sound truly apologetic, “I’ll see you on Friday.”

“Yeah, Friday.”

The line went dead and Dick was left with his own racing thoughts.

 _Dinner on Friday_.

That was done. Dick had agreed and there was a set plan. He couldn’t call back and say ‘Sorry I was so surprised by the question I said yes before I thought about it’. Besides, he did want to see Nix again, even if he wasn’t sure exactly why.

 _Reservation_.

That was more of a sticking point. How nice of a place required a reservation? Dick googled the restaurant Nix had mentioned and to his horror he found it to be very high end fine dining. He scrolled through the menu, overwhelmed by the prices listed. He would have to scrape together some money and order an appetizer and just claim he wasn’t very hungry and drink a lot of water to fill himself up. There was no way he could afford any more than that. He’d try to eat a large lunch that day too.

He’d also need to figure out what to wear and how to get to the restaurant and then home again and also what to tell Harry and Kitty because he still hadn’t even told them about Nix at all and he really wasn’t sure exactly what to say about him or about this dinner so—

Dick felt his mind starting to get away from him, his thoughts starting to spiral and come faster and faster. He grabbed his phone and quickly opened the podcast app, selecting the newest episode of _This American Life_ on autopilot. Ira Glass’ voice came as a soothing blanket over Dick’s nerves. It was easy to settle in and focus on the gentle tone, letting a calm wash over him as he breathed in and out slowly.

Pasta. He’d make pasta. That would be easy enough and he could chop up some assorted veggies to add to it.

With a plan decided on, he started prep work for dinner. Figuring out what to do about Friday and Nix would wait. He needed a clear head in order to deal with it and he knew that wasn’t going to happen at the moment. Surely something would come to him by Friday, even if it was just trying to explain everything from the beginning.

Thankfully it ended up even easier to manage that he could have hoped. Harry and Kitty decided to go out on a date Friday night and said they wouldn’t be back until late so Dick would be on his own for dinner and shouldn’t wait up for them. They wanted to take advantage of the time left before the baby arrived and made it near impossible to go out. Dick was just grateful he didn’t have to figure out what to tell them about his own plans.

“We’re really gonna tear up the town!” Harry declared, “Me, Kitty, and the fetus!”

Kitty smacked his arm. “Don’t say ‘the fetus’.”

“‘The baby’ sounds like we’re taking an infant to a bar.” Harry held Kitty’s coat up so she could more easily slip her arms in.

“Still.” She picked up her purse and looked at Dick. “You should order a pizza or something. Relax and eat some junk.”

Dick smiled. “I’ll be fine, enjoy yourselves.”

“You’re sure?”

Harry interrupted before Dick could answer, “He’s a grown man, I think he can figure out how to occupy himself. Don’t burn down the house, yeah?” He winked at Dick.

“I’ll try not to.” Dick ushered them out the door with another well wish for their evening and smiled to himself as he watched Harry open the car door for Kitty, who, despite her insistence she wasn’t an invalid, still adored the gesture.

He waited until their car pulled away, then rushed to his room where he’d laid out his nicest suit. He’d already showered earlier, but he knew he couldn’t get ready until he was alone or he’d raise questions. Especially given how dressed up he needed to be to fit in at a place like La Folie.

He called a cab and spent the time waiting looking at himself in the mirror, tugging at his jacket and straightening his collar and tie. He wanted to make sure he made a good impression. There was no way the impression he had made at the coffee shop had been particularly good, he knew he’d been in a post disappointment slump and he wanted to see if he could make up for that tonight.

The drive to the restaurant was thankfully quiet, the cab driver seeming to pick up on his nerves and disinclination for small talk and instead just let the quiet crooning of the radio fill the silence between them. The closer they got to downtown and all the lights and noise the more worried Dick felt himself become. What if he made a complete fool out of himself? He’d only met Nix the once, but he could tell old money suaveness when he saw it and Nix was nothing if not that. A particularly odd example of it thus far, but still.

The restaurant was every bit as decadent as the website had promised. Understated in a way that only sold its spot as an option for the wealthy, it wasn’t trying to overdo it with gaudy overblown ornamentation that typically signalled a place that was trying too hard and looked tacky. Simple sophistication. He could definitely picture Nix at home at an establishment like this.

Dick stepped up to the hostess’ stand. “Nixon?”

The hostess’ eyes lit up in recognition and she nodded. “Right this way, sir.”

She led him back to a more secluded table where Dick would see Nix was already sitting.

He was less rumpled than in the coffee shop, wearing a smart suit, though without a tie. His hair was still messy, but it seemed that might perpetually be the case, the cut lending itself more to artful disarray than careful styling. He had obviously shaved since their last meeting, his stubble no longer as pronounced, but still present as a noticeable five o'clock shadow.

He smiled as he saw Dick approaching and sat up straighter.

Dick took his seat across from Nix, realizing as he sat that the table was small enough that he accidentally jostled Nix’s leg with his own. He carefully tucked it back, hoping he hadn’t jarred the other man too much. “Sorry, am I late?”

Nix seemed unaffected by the nudge. “No, I got here just before you.”

A waitress stepped up then, holding an elegant glass carafe full of water. “Good evening.” She poured a glass for each of them and set the carafe to the side. “Could I get you gentlemen anything else to drink?”

Nix ordered what Dick assumed to be some type of alcohol, specifying it by brand, neat.

“Just the water, thank you,” Dick said when she looked to him for his order.

She nodded and placed their menus down, then headed off towards the bar.

Dick picked up his menu and found it rather different from the one he’d seen online. Similar prices and styles of food, but different dishes. There was fine print at the bottom that declared the menu was ever changing with the seasons and product availability. Exactly as the one online, every dish was listed in French, though with an English description underneath. He was hoping to be able to piece together enough to get something he’d like well enough. After all he did know what roasted beets were, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what comprised a demi-glace.

Nix’s glass arrived, a low tumbler of dark liquor. Dick was no expert, but he suspected it was whiskey.

“Are you ready to order? Our special tonight is salmon served with braised fennel, grilled asparagus, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, scallions, and pistachios with a goat cheese hollandaise.”

Nix spoke confidently, “I’ll have the foie gras to start.”

“The ah… coquilles St. Jacques?” It came out a little questioning and stilted, but Dick thought he’d done passibly.

Nix stifled a small smile at Dick’s pronunciation and Dick felt a hot flash of embarrassment course through himself. He was grateful that at least Nix didn’t call attention to it and it was left unmentioned by everyone including the waitress, who nodded with a pleasant smile and took their menus.

“I’m glad you came.”

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“So any job prospects since we last met?” Nix took a sip of his drink, not wincing in the slightest, though Dick imagined straight liquor like that would have to burn.

Dick frowned, trying not to let his mood plummet too much at the reminder of his situation. “No… not yet.”

Nix seemed aware he’d stepped into a sensitive topic and quickly steered them away. He inquired after Dick’s past, mentioning the military experience he’d seen on his resume. Though that in itself was a potential minefield of a conversation, Dick didn’t mind.

He wasn’t necessarily at peace with everything he had seen and done, nor was he one to brag, but he didn’t mind talking about his time in the army. For all the horrors there was also the reminder of kinship and belonging. Of confidence in himself and his men who, no matter what orders came from on high, he knew would stand together.

Their appetizers arrived and as they ate, he found himself sharing tales of his men. Funny anecdotes from downtimes and examples of just how _exemplary_ they had been. How proud he was of them. How men like that made his being an officer easy, how they had been the true heroes.

Nix let him talk, humming and commenting at appropriate moments, truly invested in what Dick was saying in a way he was unfamiliar with except in the presence of other military men. No one else was ever quite as interested in hearing about it.

“Did you serve?”

Nix seemed rather taken aback by the question. “No, though there’s navy ties in my family. Great-great grandfathers and the like. Though I don’t believe they served in the same sense, more the higher-ups who don’t see a day on the field.”

Dick nodded, now a little self conscious about how long he’d gone on. No doubt boring to a man with no common history. He fumbled trying to think of a good segue into a new topic.

Nix provided it in the question, “And before the army?”

“Nothing of much note,” Dick answered, “Went to college. I grew up on a farm in Pennsylvania.”

“Oh?”

“It was small, not a big farm operation. But we had some animals and crops.”

“What was that like?”

Dick thought back, he knew nostalgia had to be clouding his memory, but all he could think about was the warmth of the sun and the cool earth beneath his feet. The creek that ran past the edge of their property. Chasing his sister Ann, who shrieked and tried to convince the dog to act as a shield before Dick could grab her. His father hard at work chopping wood and his mother cooking over their old stovetop, a few strands of her hair always managing to escape her bun. It felt so distant now, faded into a warm sepia memory of childhood.

“Home.”

Nix’s eyes widened slightly and he took a heavy sip from his drink. “That sounds nice.”

“Where do you call home?”

Nix’s answer was cut off by the arrival of the waitress. She collected their plates and deposited the menus again. Dick realized in his conversation with Nix he had gotten too wrapped up and completely forgotten about pacing himself to make the appetizer last through the meal and was now faced with a plate as empty as his wallet.

“I’m ready to order if you are?”

Dick nodded, hoping it wouldn’t be too uncomfortable for Nix to eat his entrée alone.

“The lamb noisette, rare.”

Dick handed over his menu just after Nix. “Nothing else for me, the appetizer was more than enough.”

Nix looked surprised, his eyebrows lifting, before his eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t a lot.”

“I’m fine, really.”

The waitress started to back away, but Nix pushed on. “Do you like chicken?”

Dick felt put on the spot and he mumbled out a hesitant, “I—yes.”

“And he’ll have the poulet chasseur.”

The waitress nodded and walked away before Dick could put up much of a fight. Not that he felt he could, he didn’t want to make a scene in the restaurant, especially not one as uncomfortable as having to share his money troubles. At least he had his credit card on him. He didn’t like to charge things when he knew he wouldn’t necessarily be able to pay them off in time, but hopefully this dinner wouldn’t set him back too far.

There was a slight uneasy tension as Dick contemplated his line of credit, but Nix didn’t seem at all apologetic for forcing the issue of the entrée. Dick wanted to try to get things back on track to the easy flow of conversation they’d had before. Nix still hadn’t answered his question about his home and really it was the least he could do to inquire after Nix’s past after he’d been allowed to ramble on about his own history.

“Where did you grow up?”

“Funny you should ask, I’ve actually just inherited a house in the area.”

“Oh?”

“My father left it to me.”

Dick frowned. “I’m sorry.”

Nix snorted, “It’s a nice enough house.”

“No I mean… his passing? You said it was an inheritance?” Dick suddenly felt worried that there were some cases in which inheritances were left by still living family and he’d just accidentally expressed condolences for a living man.

“Oh. Yeah, may God have mercy on his soul and all.”

The flippant answer and Nix’s vaguely bitter tone left a sour note, a palpable halt to pleasant conversation, so Dick tried again, “Is it your childhood home?”

“Not exactly.” Nix seemed more at ease with keeping the conversation strictly to the house. “I stayed there as a child some, but it wasn’t… not often. My father didn’t have business in the area and there weren’t the social attractions for my mother so it’s more just an ancestral home we’d stay at sometimes. My great great great something or other had it built and it’s been in the family ever since.”

“Do you have plans for it? Living in it, or selling?”

“I think the ghosts of my family would come back to life and kill me themselves if I tried to sell the place.” He put on a voice, obviously doing an impression of someone in his family, “This house has been in the family for generations! It was Nixon money and Nixon blood and Nixon work that made it!” He relaxed back in his seat again, the tension he’d held in his shoulders during the impression leaving him. “As if a single Nixon lifted a finger for anything other than signing the checkbook.”

Dick wasn’t sure how to handle this type of open contempt towards one’s family. Even at the height of what could be called his teenage rebellion he hadn’t felt the vitriol towards his parents that seemed steeped in Nix’s own view. At his worst he’d found his parents a little too traditional in certain ways, but even those were matters of opinion they’d been able to overcome with no true rift. It was more just the natural path of a child away from his parents as he grew and matured and began to engage with the world on his own terms.

He decided to blow past the family matters again and focus solely on the house, especially given it seemed to be Nix’s only business in the area. Nix obviously lived somewhere else and had only come to deal with the matter of the house and even if he didn’t sell, that didn’t necessarily mean he would be staying.

“So do you plan to live there yourself?”

“I am right now. I’m not sure about the future, but for now, yes.”

“How do you like the city?”

The rest of the meal passed with light pleasant conversation about the merits of the city. Nix professing that he didn’t know much about the area and Dick recommending local attractions he’d enjoyed in the past. A few times Nix would try to steer the conversation back to the more personal, seeming endlessly fascinated by Dick’s person, but Dick was unsure how to answer most of the questions after having exhausted his most easily shared army stories earlier. He also wasn’t the most comfortable being the center of attention, particularly when there wasn’t an equal give and take exchange of personal details.

“Might I interest you gentlemen in dessert?”

Nix looked like he was considering it, but Dick decided to take action quickly this time in order to hopefully avoid a repeat of the entrée situation. “No, thank you,” he said very clearly.

This time Nix relented.

“Just a drink, then.” He asked for a refill on his whiskey, then said, “And a…” he trailed off, leaving an opening for Dick to fill in his order.

“I don’t drink.”

“A coffee,” Nix decided.

So perhaps an echo of the entrée, though at least not a full out repeat.

Their respective drinks came quickly and they were left in silence sipping them. The coffee was good and Dick had to admit it was a pleasant end to the meal. A meal which, for its oddities and slight missteps, was also overall pleasant. It struck him that despite having spent a few hours in Nix’s company at a restaurant Nix had invited him to, he still wasn’t exactly sure what Nix’s interest in him was.

Should he invite Nix somewhere? Would Nix invite him? Would this be their last contact? Dick hoped not. He wanted to see Nix again. He wanted it with more clarity than he’d wanted something in a long time. Though also with absolute lack of clarity. His own motivations foggy to himself beyond just the simple fact that he knew he wanted to know Nix better.

“You had some administrative experience?”

The question came out of the blue and Dick nodded, spouting off the first relevant fact that came to mind. “I can type—“

Nix cut him off, “Thirty words per minute. I remember your resume. Frankly atrocious, but you’re lucky I’m not looking for a secretary. More an… assistant.” He said the word like he was weighing it on his tongue, considering.

“What would that entail?”

“Errands. Cleaning, maybe some cooking.”

“That sounds like a housekeeper.”

“That and… company.” He sounded almost unsure, but covered it by quickly continuing, “Maybe help with my writing like filing or something.”

“What would the hours be?”

“Live-in.”

“Live-in?”

Nix nodded. “I mean, it’s not as though you’d need to be working all the time. You’d have plenty of time to yourself to do as you please. Access to the grounds and all. Really, I don’t think anything would need to be done at any particular time so you could set your schedule.”

“That sounds rather lax for a live-in assistant.”

Nix shrugged. “It’s what the position entails. The house, it’s larger than I’m going to manage. I need someone to handle the day-to-day. As long as it’s handled I’m not particular about the time table.”

Perhaps not the most exciting job offer on paper, cooking and cleaning. But for some reason it felt thrilling. Dick was tempted to agree, but his practicality won out. He needed to know the hard facts, the numbers and everything, before he could agree. No matter how bizarrely tempting the proposition was, he couldn’t end up in a worse situation than he currently was. Even if the fact that this job was on the table openly being offered made it hard to not leap at the opportunity.

“What salary are you offering?”

“Well, room and board included. Beyond that, I’m sure I can offer something to commensurate with your current salary level. Or,” he remembered Dick was currently unemployed, “rather, exceed it and satisfy your desired salary level.”

Dick hummed thoughtfully. “And the start date?”

“Your soonest availability.”

The temptation to accept grew stronger. The money, the ability to stop inserting himself in Harry and Kitty’s lives and home, the _stability_. Not to mention the drive Dick felt to get to know Nix, to keep him close. And the fact that the job itself was well within Dick’s skillset. It was what he already did for Harry and Kitty in thanks for letting him stay, just on a larger scale. And for a salary on top of room and board.

The only thing holding him back was a faint alarm in the back of his mind. It was ringing cautions of acting on impulse, of taking a leap of faith on a stranger no matter how charismatic, of how to explain his decision to Harry and Kitty and the rest of his friends.

“When can you start?” Nix broke him from his considerations.

“I didn’t say I agreed.”

“Is there an issue with the terms of employment?”

“No. I just… I’ll think on it.”

Nix sat back in his seat and the two of them finished off their drinks in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, both of them were lost in their own heads considering the proposition on the table. In that time the waitress came and set the check on the table, placing the slim black book in front of Nix. He opened it and Dick looked over, expecting to see two bills inside, but saw there was only one.

“Did she not split it?” He looked around, hoping she was nearby and he could flag her down to fix the error and split the check between the two of them.

“There’s no need.”

“I can pay for mine,” Dick insisted.

Nix waived his hand dismissively. “I invited you.” He pulled a credit card out of his wallet, one of those thick metal ones that Dick wasn’t exactly sure how you got, except that they were exclusively used by the rich. It made a satisfyingly solid sound as Nix set it in the bill holder and closed the book.

After the payment was processed Dick offered to pay at least the tip, but was waived off again by Nix who quickly scribbled down some numbers and his signature. Dick didn’t get a good look at it, but he saw enough to tell him Nix had left a considerable tip. He was glad, he had always felt treating those in the service industry well was highly important and watching someone be rude to a server or tip badly always soured them in his opinion.

They knocked their knees together under the table again as they both made to stand, but this time Nix seemed more affected than the first, though he didn’t say anything. They walked out of the restaurant together and came to a stop on the sidewalk out front. Dick needed to call an uber and Nix was likely parked nearby. Still, they lingered, the moment feeling unfulfilled and burdened. Anticipation building, but no clear path of what it was building to lay before Dick.

After a moment Nix sighed and shifted his feet, he pulled a pen and paper and wrote something down. “Well… think it over.” He held the paper out to Dick.

“I will.” He took the offered note.

Nix nodded. “Good.... good.” He swallowed hard and offered Dick a half smile. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Dick watched him walk away and turn the corner before he looked at the note. On it was an address and a short string of numbers. He stared at it longer than he meant to before he remembered to pull out his phone and order the uber. Luckily the location of the restaurant in the midst of downtown meant he only had a few minutes wait before it would arrive. He watched the cars drive past as he waited, staring at them and wondering which, if any was Nix’s.

* * *

 

“So how long is that?”

Harry was kneeling on the floor of the guest room, tape measure in hand as he measured what he believed had to be every conceivable aspect of the room. Planning the layout of a nursery was hard, especially given it was currently functioning as an in-use guest room so they couldn’t just start shoving furniture around until it looked right. “A little over four and a half feet.”

Kitty hummed. “Well… given the window placement I think it’s best to have the crib there, even if it’s a little tight.”

He nodded. “That should leave space for the changing table over here.”

“I want the rocking chair tucked in that corner, though. Do you think that’s too far away from the crib?”

Harry shrugged. “It’s a small room, I don’t think that really matters.”

“You’re right. I just want it to be _right_.”

“It will be.”

Dick walked in, feeling like he was imposing on their private planning, but he had unfortunately left his charger in the room.

Kitty turned and frowned apologetically when she saw him. “Sorry, we won’t be much longer.”

Dick shook his head. “Take your time, it’s important. I just needed to grab something, I’ll only be a second.” He grabbed his charger from the nightstand.

Harry got up from where he’d been kneeling on the floor and groaned as he stood. “Hey, while you’re here, when do you think would be a good time for us to paint a couple swatches on the wall? Kitty’s got it narrowed down to a couple top picks for the color so I wanted to get them on the wall and see how they look.”

“Anytime is fine.”

“Well, we didn’t want to bother you with the paint fumes,” Kitty explained, “Plus we might need to move some things around a little and I don’t want to just start shoving your stuff around.”

“Really, it’s fine. I can pack everything away so you have space.”

Kitty smiled. “Alright, well we can pick up a couple samples later.” She turned to address Harry as she spoke and he nodded.

Dick made a quiet retreat from the room, his goal was to be as unobtrusive to planning for the baby as possible. Difficult given he was quite literally obtruding in the baby’s room with his very presence in the house. It wasn’t that he forgot the baby was coming, but days like this made his status as an interloper in the small family’s home even more blatant. He could feel the need to move keenly.

And with that need came thoughts of Nix. It had been a little while since their dinner and he hadn’t heard anything from the other man. Though, they had parted on terms that Dick would be the one considering the offer, so it made sense Nix was waiting to hear back from Dick. His thoughts had been wandering to him quite often, and to his proposition.

Room and board plus salary. An easy job Dick felt confident he could fulfill the terms of with little danger of losing. It would get him back on his feet and would finally give Harry and Kitty their home back so they could focus on preparing for the baby instead of taking care of their down on his luck friend.

Nix’s proposal really was a godsend, it offered a solution to all of Dick’s most pressing problems. Not to mention how badly Dick wanted to accept. Really the only reason he hadn’t was that he didn’t know how to explain it to anyone. He felt like if anyone else knew they would judge him. And most frustratingly of all he didn’t know why he feared judgement on the matter. But, it was his life, he could take any job he wanted. And, he was realizing with more and more clarity, he _wanted_ this job. Not just a job. _This_ job. With Nix.

Before he knew what he was doing he found himself standing in the kitchen with his phone against his ear, a call ringing through to Nix.

“Dick?” Nix sounded happy to hear from him.

“I accept.”

“You—”

“The job offer,” Dick interrupted, “I accept.”

“I’m glad to hear it, when can you start?”

“I’ll need…” Dick trailed off, considering, “I’ll need about a week to settle everything. I can come next Monday.”

“You still have the address, right?”

Dick hummed in affirmation.

“Then I’ll see you next Monday.”

“Next Monday, “ Dick agreed.

Now all that was left was to figure out how to tell Harry and Kitty.

It didn’t go the smoothest, especially given Dick had neglected to mention Nix as a person in his life whatsoever, but he left enough unsaid that he knew he was implying he knew Nix a lot better than he really did. Which did seem to put his friends at ease. Kitty in particular seemed to think Nix was someone close to Dick that Dick had been too private to mention before and she and Harry both gave him their support, though not without a rigorous questioning about the oddity of the situation first.

Still, Dick had managed to reassure them, and at the end of the day Dick was a grown man who was allowed to make his own choices. He thanked them profusely for their help during his time of struggle and privately he thought to himself how glad he was to take himself off of their shoulders as a burden. He knew they would never talk about him as such, but he surely had been.

By the time Sunday came around Dick had packed up his belongings and helped Harry move the guest room furniture out so the room was empty and ready to be painted and set up to take on its new life as a nursery.

They had a 'congrats on the new job and home' party for Dick the same day and it warmed him through to be surrounded by everyone he cared most about and be able to show he was making progress again. He was going to go back to being the self sufficient Dick Winters he had always been.

That night he slept on the couch, his bag already by the door and he knew the next morning was going to change his life. There was a small tingle of anxiety running through him, but overall he felt anticipation. An eagerness to go and prove himself to be the man he’d always thought he was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I can’t promise that I’ll be updating weekly or really hold myself to a strict schedule, but I’m excited to be able to get this chapter out already! Thanks to everyone who commented on the first chapter, the feedback was very motivating!
> 
> Thanks as always to Shreya and Sarah, without whom I would not be able to sort out my ideas quite so well.

Dick stepped out of the cab and took in the mansion that stood before him. It had been a long drive out of the city, longer than he’d ever taken in a cab. There were a few small towns they had passed through on the way, but the property was fairly distant even from them. Dick knew grocery shopping would be a trip, but manageable every few weeks. The property was nestled back a ways away from anything else, surrounded by woods. The cab had dropped him at the edge of the property, right in front of the grand wrought iron gate.

The day was grey and overcast, the light dim, yet plenty illuminating. There was fog around the edges of the property, though it was surrounded by a stone wall so Dick couldn’t get a proper look until he got inside.

He could see the house itself through the gaps in the gate, sat imposingly at the end of the gravel drive. It was undoubtedly Gothic Revival in style, the architecture looked to date to the 1800s and it was grand in the way homes from that time are. Effortlessly grandiose and speaking to old money in a way no gold plated McMansion could dream to imitate. This was truly the type of house one would expect to find when told you were visiting an _estate_.

He pulled out the piece of paper Nix had scribbled the address on again. This was definitely the place. He hefted up his bag up his shoulder and approached the gate, the decorative spikes an ornamental but strong deterrent to outsiders. He could see through the gaps evidence that the lawn had once been immaculately manicured, but had been left to itself. It wasn’t completely overrun, there was evidence that maintenance of some sort had been attempted recently. But still, it hadn’t been tended to fully in enough time that you could see how this place was sure to generate rumors with the locals. Haunted… inhabited by an eccentric hermit who may or may not be a witch… he shook his head, casting aside the fairytales.

Approaching the gate revealed a keypad to the side. He tried the intercom button first, but was met with silence. He referenced the paper again and found the code. It felt wrong to brazenly enter another’s property that sat behind lock and key, but given he’d been provided the key… He entered the code and heard the heavy clunk of the gate unlatch and swing open.

The gravel crunched beneath his feet as he made his way up the drive. It wasn’t the longest he’d seen, there were some out in the country where he’s grown up that were three times as long, but it was long enough to set the house back from the road significantly. Dick couldn’t see the entire property between the overgrowth, the trees, and the fog, but he could tell it was a sizeable amount of land. Perhaps not as large as some of the farms he had grown up around, but it was enough to suit the stateliness of the home. He would have to do a proper survey of it later, perhaps he could map it out during his customary morning runs.

Shadows loomed, exaggerating the shapes of the trees and the architectural details. Most of the lights in the house appeared to be out, or at least covered by heavy curtains. Dick could see the door illuminated clearly before him, a light above it light shining brightly in the gloom.

The house itself rose up, cutting a stark profile against the dim grey sky. He could see there were ornamental elements wound through the stonework and what appeared to be at least a few stained glass windows. It would almost be ostentatious except that every detail felt in place. Like the Rococo halls of Versailles, it was heavily ornamented and yet the idea of stripping away a single detail seemed wrong. Unlike modern attempts to copy the style, the Gothic detailing was authentic.

Just as he’d tried at the gate intercom, he tried again at the door. First using the heavy, but intricately carved, knocker attached to the center of the door and when that prompted no response, his fist. Unlike the code, he had been provided no key.

The house stood in silence and he began to wonder if this had been a mistake. It was an odd enough proposal to begin with and arriving alone to a practical stranger’s home… he glanced back down the drive. He could always walk back and call another cab. Contact Nix and apologize that he would no longer accept the proposition.

His small lonely apartment came to mind, and with it the memory that it wasn’t even his anymore. His friends couches, where they’d been gracious enough to host him. His presence in Harry and Kitty’s nursery, taking up space intended for their baby. His move from menial job to menial job. His lack of direction. He knew he wasn’t in the worst situation. He had a roof over his head, even if it wasn’t his own and could find work steady enough to pay for food and his friends kindness in hosting him. But it was unfulfilling and unsustainable. And it had been a long time since he’d had a true direction.

He looked back at the grand wooden door and squared his shoulders. Might as well try every option laid before him. Reaching out and turning the handle gingerly, the taboo creating more hesitance than natural to him, he found it turned easily and swung in to reveal a dimly lit foyer.

If entering the gate alone had been odd, that had nothing on the sensation of entering someone else’s _house_ alone. He carefully closed the door behind him, this time clicking the lock out of habit.

Dick’s thoughts on the grandeur of the exterior of the house fled the moment he began to take in the interior. Before him lay the most simultaneously large yet stifling room he had ever stepped foot in. The ceiling towered above him so high he could barely hazard a guess to its height, but the heavy beams and wood paneling made it feel oppressive, like the room was condensing around him. A grand staircase with intricate carvings laid into everything from the balusters holding up the length of the handrail to the newel posts and finials that sat atop them.

The largest chandelier Dick could have imagined hung centered over the room, its crystals appearing as both liquidly elegant yet undoubtedly weighty, though it provided no light. Light came instead from a few scattered lamps and wall sconces. The imbalance of light source and overall dimness served to further the overwhelming nature of the room.

It felt blanketed, both in quiet and in the decor, the wood paneling and ornate rugs and the numerous portraits that adorned the walls. It felt like stepping back in time and Dick felt horribly out of place in his jeans with his canvas rucksack still slung over his shoulder. He wanted to remove his shoes for fear of muddying the floor, yet also felt to bare his feet would be taboo.

Any idea of calling out for Nix died on his tongue, Dick felt incapable of more than a whisper. He walked forward cautiously, fearful of touching anything, but determined to at least find his host. He was about to continue into the house when he went to readjust his bag out of habit. The shift in weight reminded him he was carrying it and though he didn’t want to leave it lying about, it seemed a better option to leave it in the foyer until he found a better place than risk turning a corner and knocking something down with it. He placed it by the side of the front door carefully, ensuring to tuck it out of the way.

Venturing further into the mansion only revealed further opulence. The foyer had been an example of what could be found throughout, rather than a standout piece of concentrated luxury. Paintings, carvings, and expensive furniture and rugs were generously distributed amongst the rooms. Dick also found a heavy layer of dust over much of the house and certain areas where drop cloths were laid over furniture. There was also some scattered evidence that someone had been living in the house, areas with no dust or where books had been left out.

There were also touches of modernity in amongst the historical accuracy. A phone charger here, a recent newspaper there, a television in one of the sitting rooms. Though, the television was set into the room as unobtrusively as possible. Great care had obviously been taken to provide modern amenities while not detracting from the feeling of the house overall.

Dick continued to explore the house and while there was obviously evidence of someone living there, he had yet to find the man himself. It felt like all he was succeeding in doing was getting himself lost in the maze of a mansion. There were halls and doors and stairs leading in so many directions he wasn’t sure how to best check every room in an area before he moved on.

He was trying to work his way through methodically, and as he continued he realized he had begun tactically clearing each room, falling back on instinct. _Slicing the pie_ , murmured a voice in the back of his mind. Not in the same manner as if he’d had a weapon in his hands and certainly not as meticulously, but still. He made the conscious effort to walk into the next room more confidently. He may have felt ill at ease, but there was no reason to sneak. He had been invited here. He was supposed to be here.

The next room he came to held more of the same. The deep woods and the dark rich jewel tones. Expensive Victorian looking wallpaper and impeccable craftsmanship on the details that were carved into the wooden surfaces. He passed through and found himself in a gallery, the long hallway covered in portraits on both sides. Dick walked down it quickly, not lingering and taking care to not stare at any of the portraits too long.

Finally, when he felt well and truly lost, he opened the door to the library. It was large and had floor to ceiling shelves completely full of books. Nice, leather bound, embossed books. There were some tables scattered throughout as well as seats. It was the messiest rooms he’d seen yet, books and notes were scattered around chaotically, though not in a way that seemed like the place had been ransacked. Just like someone had been working for months and hadn’t bothered to put anything away.

And there, in the midst of stacks of books and papers, sat Nix, sprawled easily in a leather armchair. His eyes were closed and his shirt was untucked with the first few buttons left open. Dick spotted an empty glass held loosely in his hand, and a mostly empty decanter of liquor nearby.

“Nix?”

Nix started slightly and frowned, blinking slowly as he took in Dick standing before him.

“Dick?”

“Good morning.”

“Is it Monday? Shit.” Nix lifted his hand, belatedly noticing he still held a glass in his grasp. He set it aside, then ran his fingers through his hair, only serving to further the disarray.

Dick wasn’t quite sure what to think. This was the least put together Dick had ever seen him, but any uncharitable thoughts faded as he remembered his own state when Nix first met him. It wouldn’t do to judge Nix for what had obviously been a rough night, even if the fact he had no idea what day it was didn’t exactly bode well for his general state of being.

“Let me wash up, then I’ll give you the tour.”

Nix led the way out of the library, walking the halls with the confidence of a man who knew he was on his own property. It wasn’t that his posture was particularly proud, just that his feet knew the path ahead well enough that he walked with a purpose Dick had been unable to.

“Where are your things?”

“I left my bag in the foyer,” Dick answered.

Nix nodded and changed directions. “I’ll show you your room and you can get settled.” He led them back to the foyer and Dick was quick to pick up his bag from where he’d left it by the door. Nix started up the grand staircase and Dick followed, taking a bit more time to take in his surroundings now that he had a guide.

The stairs led up to another long gallery, though this one was open on one side with a railing that let you look down at the foyer below. Nix walked down the hall and led Dick back further into the second story, here the ceilings were lower, though still at least twelve feet in height. They just felt low after incredible heights that could be found in many of the first floor rooms. The lack of windows and rich dark wallpaper also served to make the interior hallway feel more closed in than it really was.

Nix led him down one wing until he came to a stop in front of a door. “This is your room. Mine is just down the hall.” He pointed. “You get settled, I won’t be long.” He was already walking away before Dick even opened the door. Dick assumed he was eager to wash up and distance himself from any embarrassment from how Dick had found him.

Though it shouldn’t have surprised him given everything he had seen thus far, Dick still managed to be shocked when he walked into his room. It was decadent and rich, the deep wood paneling and heavy furniture making it feel like the inside of an ornamental box. The color scheme was a lush forest green, dark wood, and touches of gold.

There was an armoire that looked straight out of _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_ as well as a desk with a full set of old fashioned metal pens. The bed was a grand four poster ordeal with heavy green curtains surrounding it, held open by thick golden ropes tied to the posts of the bed. Dick ran his fingers through the tassels of one of the ropes carefully.

He set his bag down and started inspecting the room more thoroughly. The sheets on the bed were obviously freshly washed, but there was dust in every place that was periferal to the main purposes of sleeping and storing clothes. The fireplace was empty, as was the log holder beside it, but Dick crouched down and found evidence of ash and soot within. He’d have to find out if the chimney was blocked or not before he tried using it, but he did like the idea of a nice fire in his room come winter.

As he continued to familiarize himself with the room he found that though it was far more elaborate than any room he’d ever had before, it was actually plainer than some of the other rooms he had seen. Everything in the room was grand and old, but it wasn’t cluttered with statues and decorations. It was a relief that he wouldn’t have to keep an eye on delicate glass and ceramic in his own room. He wasn’t clumsy or given to breaking things, but being surrounded by wealth, especially fragile tokens of wealth, set him on edge.

The art was also fairly sparse. There were a few tapestries hung on the walls, but no paintings. He was relieved to find the room absent of portraits entirely. It would be unsettling to try to sleep while watched over by the unblinking eyes of a stranger, even if the stranger was only made of paint and canvas.

Dick had just started considering whether to go ahead and start unpacking and really getting settled when there was a knock at his door. Opening it revealed a freshly showered and far more put together Nix.

His dark hair was still damp and his cheeks held the faint flush of hot water and a quick shave. He had on a plain grey sweater and had lost the sense of sheepish unease he’d had when Dick first found him.

“Ready for the tour?”

Dick nodded and followed him back out to the hall.

“Is your room suitable?” He looked eager to hear Dick’s assessment.

“Yeah, it’s… incredible.”

Nix grinned wide and started to lead Dick down the hall. He indicated another door a little further down the hall. “You can use this bathroom as your own, there’s one closer to my room that I use.”

His own private bathroom was another novelty Dick would have to get used to, even without it being set up as a master suite. Being a housekeeper was, in an odd twist, affording Dick more luxury than he’d ever had in his life thus far.

He continued to shadow Nix through the house, Nix breezing through and naming each room, but not lingering. Dick was fine with that, the house was so enormous that as long as he got a general rundown he could revisit and better familiarize himself later. For now it was enough to start building a mental map and connecting the rooms.

“This is the formal dining room, but I don’t really use it,” Nix said, hurrying them through a room that truly embodied the concept of ‘formal dining’. The table was so long it could hold a board meeting and the length was covered in candle holders at regular intervals. There was a cabinet of fine china to one side and numerous chandeliers hanging above the table. Dick couldn’t imagine eating in such a room, it looked like a set more than a real useable space.

“If there’s a table in the kitchen, that would suit me fine,” he said, glad to avoid using this room if possible.

Nix nodded. “That’s down this way.” He took them through a door and then down the plainest set of steps Dick had seen yet. There were no windows nor were there any carvings or newel posts, they were obviously internal and not intended to be seen by anyone who didn’t live there. They twisted in a tight curl of steps and landings before opening up into the kitchen.

The kitchen was like a breath of fresh air after the oppressive grandness of the rest of the house. White walls and modern appliances, sparse and practical in layout and decor, though care had obviously been taken to not disrupt the historic aesthetic too much and everything felt as in place as possible, while still providing every modern convenience. Dick felt more at home than anywhere else in the house so far and he was sure he’d end up spending a lot of time here, even if cooking hadn’t been part of his job description.

“The servant’s quarters are down that way,” Nix pointed to the opposite end of the kitchen. “There’s not much down there really, but feel free to look around if you want.”

“Servants quarters?”

Nix nodded. “Back when the place was built they had live-in servants so there’s a whole wing down there to accommodate them. That’s why the kitchen is down here instead of up in the main house. Even when my parents updated the place there wasn’t any need to change the layout, it’s not like either of them cooked.”

“No? Then who did?”

“The cook.”

Nix answered like it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but to Dick it sounded like not much had changed since the building of the house. Hired help seemed to be the norm for Nixons regardless of era. “Did your cook live there?”

“Yes.”

“Why not put me there?” He was starting to wonder about the lines of employee and employer versus housemates in their situation. He’d never been in a scenario equivalent to this. Even while technically living with his bosses in the army, there had been structure. Rules and regulations in place that left no room to question. His new circumstances seemed to be full of nothing but questions.

Nix frowned. “You aren’t staff.”

“Housekeeper,” Dick reminded him.

“ _Assistant_. Besides, it’s different,” Nix insisted, “But if you want to be down here I guess you can.” He sounded a little unsure, maybe even put out.

“The room upstairs is great,” Dick reassured him, “I don’t think I’ll want to leave anytime soon.”

He was rewarded with another of Nix’s charming smiles.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“Sure.”

Nix started the coffee maker and busied himself pulling out mugs. They were nice. Not the delicate fine china Dick had seen stored up in the cabinet in the formal dining room, but still obviously part of an expensive matching set. Certainly a far cry from the familiar jumble of mismatched mugs collected over the years that could be found in Harry and Kitty’s kitchen.

“So you grew up here?” Dick remembered Nix had said the house was more of an ancestral home, but he assumed he had spent at least some time here growing up from the way Nix talked about it.

“Partially. We moved a lot, rotating between the houses.”

_The houses._ He said it so casually and must’ve caught the look on Dick’s face because he continued to explain, “This place, the house in California, the apartment in New York, the house in New Jersey, the apartment in Paris, the house on the coast of France. Plus once I was too old for the tutor I was sent to boarding school so I spent most of my year there anyway.”

“Oh.”

What else was there to say to that? The fact that not only had Nix grown up traveling extensively, but had travelled between multiple different houses all owned by his family placed him at a level of privilege Dick couldn’t even imagine. He wondered if each of those houses were as grand as this one and given everything he knew so far, he suspected they were.

He accepted his mug of coffee from Nix, grateful to have it now to fill the lull in conversation as he searched for something to say other than an incredulous questioning of Nix’s background. Given they were in the kitchen on the first day of his new job, that seemed like an easy place to start.

“You said cooking might be involved in my job?”

“Sure.”

“How many meals will I need to make for you?”

Nix had obviously not thought out the logistics of having someone else cook for him, despite the fact that it wasn’t his first time outsourcing such tasks. “I don’t eat breakfast. Brunch on occasion, but I can do that myself.” He shrugged.

“What time do you typically each lunch and dinner?”

“It varies…” Nix trailed off, realizing that the schedule he currently kept was not conducive to a regimented meal routine, particularly not one that involved coordinating with another person. “How about you cook for yourself, but make enough I can heat it up later?”

“That works.” And it made Dick’s life pretty simple. It was as easy to cook for two as for one and if all he had to do was eat whenever he wanted and pack up the leftovers for Nix to eat when he was ready, that would be about the same as cooking for himself. “Do you have any allergies?”

“No. Just make whatever you’d make, we can figure out specifics as we go. Tastes and preferences and all that.”

“What’s the monthly grocery budget?”

This question clearly came as a surprise as well, it seemed Nix hadn’t given much thought to any of the logistics at all. “A thousand?” He offered tentatively.

“A _thousand?_ ” Surely Nix wasn’t suggesting that as the budget for two people’s worth of groceries per month.

“Or—two thousand? Look, just, whatever it takes to feed us? I’ll give you a card, buy whatever you need.”

Dick nodded and drank his coffee. A near limitless budget to cook double whatever he’d make for himself was the easiest food related task he’d ever undertaken. He’d come up with his own budget after he’d been working for a few days and had a better grasp on the needs of the household. He had a feeling Nix wouldn’t be pleased to live the more spartan lifestyle Dick tended towards alone so the budget would certainly have to include more splurges than simply doubling Dick’s personal typical grocery list.

“And the rest of my job is mostly upkeep of the house? Were there any specific tasks you had in mind?”

“No, just… general upkeep. Keeping things clean and in order. I’m not expecting you to spitshine the whole place, just as long as things are taken care of.”

“No special instructions?”

Nix shook his head. “As long as it’s clean and you aren’t wrecking the antiques do it how you see fit.”

It really wasn’t any more complicated than Nix had made it sound when he first proposed it over dinner. It wasn’t even more than Dick was already doing for Harry and Kitty, it was just on a greater scale. The size of the house and complexities of its decor were going to be the most difficult aspects of the job, but with Nix’s lax expectations, Dick would be free to go about things as he pleased. It would be monotonous work, but Dick didn’t mind that. He could spend his time listening to audiobooks and podcasts while he worked. There was a comfort in simple hands on labor, especially when it was all things Dick felt more than capable of handling. He also liked that in many ways it sounded like he would be his own boss, no one breathing down his neck watching his every move.

He smiled at Nix. “I think I can manage that.”

Just then he could’ve sworn he saw a shadow cross from one side of the hall behind Nix to the other, visible just over Nix’s shoulder, but he got distracted by Nix’s answering smile and when he looked at the hall again nothing seemed to be amiss. He disregarded it as a trick of the light.

“Glad to have you on board, Dick,” Nix said, his smile easy and content.

* * *

 

It was simple enough to settle into a routine. Nix was absent a good bit of the time, holed up in the library or his room working on whatever it was he did all day. Dick still wasn’t really sure, but it entailed a lot of research and notes and leaving trails of scattered books and papers throughout the house. He assumed Nix was writing something, maybe a novel. He certainly fit plenty of the absentminded troubled novelist stereotypes.

Dick ended up just assuming any maintenance type tasks, whether errands or chores, were on him. It was easier to take them on himself without clarifying and be able to set his own sense of order, rather than try to get Nix in the loop. Though that’s not to say he left Nix out entirely.

He had imposed certain rules, such as the grocery list that now proudly decorated the front of the fridge. It was a gleaming whiteboard with a dry erase marker and had put an end to Nix’s maddening habit of leaving small notes around the kitchen at random times whenever he thought of something he might like. Dick had a specific day every two weeks he went grocery shopping and if an item wasn’t on the list in time it would have to wait until the next trip.

As expected groceries were more of an ordeal than they had been when he was living alone, or even with Harry and Kitty. The drive into town was much longer, but Dick enjoyed the time on the road. Nix let him use his car, a pristine vintage sportscar outfitted with every imaginable luxury. It ran smoothly and between the steady purr of the engine and the leather seats, it made the drive pleasant. Dick would turn on the radio and watch the woods fade away and turn into the more developed landscape of the nearest small town.

Nix wasn’t particularly concerned about what Dick stocked the kitchen with as long as there was food. He did put up a bit of a fuss about quality and brand names, which Dick thought was overblown, but given he was shopping on Nix’s dime he would pay the upcharge if that’s what the other man wanted. He did have a few requests for foods outside of Dick’s normal purview, but they were easy enough to indulge as well.

The biggest adjustment was adding stops to the liquor store to his routine. Nix was very exacting about his whiskey and Dick had taken meticulous notes the first time it was requested he replenish Nix’s stock. Though, in the end, Dick didn’t have to make those stops long.

That errand had ended up being one of the only sources of tension between them. Dick had been certain Nix had gotten mixed up when he wrote a note requesting Dick pick up a number of _cases_ rather than bottles, but when questioned Nix had confirmed he meant what he wrote. Dick hadn’t meant to come off as judgemental, but he could tell he’d struck a nerve with Nix and after that Nix only requested Dick go on occasion, though his glass never seemed to suffer for it.

Dick knew Nix had to be getting the liquor himself, but he wasn’t going to press. He knew his job was to run errands for Nix, but in all honesty he was happier being kept in the dark on the details of Nix’s habit.

The cleaning of the house had been just as much of an ordeal to start as Dick had anticipated. There was some evidence that someone had attempted to start cleaning the place up before Dick had arrived, but they hadn’t gotten very far. The efforts had been focused on key rooms like the kitchen, but the more peripheral the room was to the bare necessities of living, the more untouched it was.

His strategy to get a handle on years worth of dust and cobwebs was to focus on deep cleaning a small portion of the house at a time, starting with the most important rooms and slowly branching out. Then, those areas could be maintained with ease while he tackled the rest of the house bit by bit.

It was working thus far, and luckily though Nix was somewhat messy, he wasn’t particularly gross. No plates of rotted forgotten food were left about, just stacks of papers and empty glasses. The worst were the ashtrays, but even those just had to be emptied and put back in place.

Dick wasn’t expected to clean Nix’s bedroom or bathroom, for which he was grateful. Not because he feared what they contained so much as it felt like crossing an unspoken line. Though technically he was Nix’s employee, the longer he stayed there the more he felt like he was some sort of companion to Nix. They certainly didn’t act like employer and employee around each other, more like odd distant roommates.

When he wasn’t taking care of the domestic tasks, Dick had been busy familiarizing himself with the grounds. There was plenty of space for him to track new routes on his morning runs, trying to cover the entire area until he knew it. A lot of it was still too covered in growth to run safely, but he could explore those areas with a brisk walk that served as a cooldown from his run.

He had already mowed the front lawn and had plans to start clearing and tidying some of the paths that led through the grounds. It was too big of a job for him to tackle alone, but he didn’t like the idea of calling in a landscaping company to come in. He wanted to do as much as he could alone and get a good idea of exactly what he might need to hire out for before he let just anyone traipse around the property.

It wasn’t his land to protect, he knew this logically, but emotionally he felt tied to the place. Like it was his and Nix’s and if anyone else were to set foot inside the stone walls of the estate they would be trespassing. An outsider. It would be best not to invite anyone else in unless absolutely necessary, Dick was certain of this.

His wanderings through the property had revealed an old greenhouse, though it wasn’t much of a discovery given is was visible from the house. It was old, classic Victorian in style with thousands of panes of glass set into a deceptively delicate looking metal framework. The bones of the structure were still standing and in Dick’s opinion in good repair, the biggest hurdle to overcome would be replacing the shattered glass and cleaning all the shards from the ground.

But given enough time and effort, he could see it returned to its former glory and housing fresh produce year round. He hoped he’d have a chance to get it there, he’d always liked the idea of having a greenhouse so even in the dead of winter he could have produce that held that sweet fresh from the earth taste instead of the blandness that marked the stuff grocery stores shipped in when it wasn’t growing season.

Of more bizarre interest than the greenhouse was a stone wall Dick had found deeper into the gardens. He called them the gardens because he could tell they had once held manicured flower beds, but they were long since overgrown. At first he had thought he’d come to the edge of the property and was surprised because it didn’t seem to fit with the walls he had already mapped out, but as he walked along its length he came to realize this was a new set of walls within the bounds of the outer walls. He didn’t know what they contained and the overgrowth was so thick by the edges that Dick couldn’t even fully access the area. He assumed the gate was hidden deep within the maze of bushes and vines that threatened to overtake the stone wall entirely.

He asked Nix over dinner about it, but Nix didn’t have any answers beyond acknowledging its existence.

The two of them had fallen into a habit of having dinner together fairly regularly. Dick, being a creature of habit, liked to have dinner around the same time every night, and it hadn’t taken long for Nix to pick up on Dick’s rhythm of life. It didn’t make Nix alter his entire schedule towards consistency, but he did start turning up in the kitchen around six every night with more frequency.

“I’ve never been in it, wherever the gate is it’s been overgrown long before I ever came here. That didn’t stop me from trying to climb my way in a few times, though,” Nix laughed, his eyes shining with distant memory, “We used to say it was like in _The Secret Garden_. I even asked father if we had some long lost cousin stashed around in here somewhere, but he didn’t find that particularly amusing.”

“We?”

“My sister and I.”

This was the first Dick had heard about a sister. “Oh, does she visit often?”

“She’s dead.”

Dick was taken aback by the bluntness and scrambled to come up with an adequate reply of sympathy, but before he could speak Nix continued with a haphazard grin, stretching his arms out grandly. “You’re looking at the last vestige of the Nixon bloodline!”

Dick frowned. “I’m sorry—”

Nix waved his hand dismissively before Dick could continue. “It’s been a long time.” He sipped his whiskey and brushed past quickly. “So you’ve been exploring the grounds more, then?”

Dick still got emotional whiplash sometimes from how quickly Nix would say something outlandishly dark or self deprecating, and then move past it with a change in subject. He had his own insecurities, but he never regarded them with the same malice Nix turned towards himself, nor was he in the habit of voicing them in the same disarming off centered way Nix was prone to. But that was just how Nix was.

“I have. I’ve been mapping it out on my runs.”

Nix perked up at the word ‘mapping’. “I’m sure I’ve got an old map of the property laying around somewhere if you’re interested. Might be preferable to the on the ground running around plotting, though, you don’t seem to mind that.”

“It clears my head.”

“I don’t understand how you do that… wake up at seven and run around outside.”

“Six,” Dick corrected him, “I wake up at six, when the sun rises.”

“Christ! Even worse. What is that, a leftover from the army days? Or farm life?”

“I woke up even earlier back then, and it was a lot harder work than just running.”

“Still, here you are, leaving them both behind, yet continuing to wake up and run. You’re a glutton for punishment.”

“It’s not punishment, I like to do it.”

Early morning exercise was far outside the realm of anything Nix found enjoyable, he shook his head fondly and continued eating. Dick didn’t know how to explain the feeling to Nix adequately. The clear cool of the morning, the peace of knowing the world was only just beginning to wake around you, the steady exertion of running. The grounding knowledge of your own body’s capabilities and not trying to push too hard, just enough to remind yourself what you could do. The gentle alertness that came with it at a time of day when the whole world was coming awake with you.

He scooped another bite of food onto his fork. His mind was already wandering to updates to make to the grocery list. He could use the leftover chicken from tonight’s dinner to make chicken salad for lunch tomorrow, but they were low on potatoes and a few other easy staples he’d have to remember to make note of. Dick liked to make simple filling food that could serve multiple purposes and so far he hadn’t heard any complaints from Nix. If he prepped the chicken salad tonight, that would leave him more time tomorrow to tackle the rugs in the formal sitting room. He wanted to do it all in one go, though he knew it was going to be an ordeal to drag them in and out of the house.

“Why the army?”

Dick realized Nix had finished eating and was sitting back in his seat watching him.

He had never been asked that quite so bluntly, most people shying away from the subject unless it was to express broad opinions or general thanks for his service. But his own personal choice to join? Rarely ever called into question, and usually only discussed with fellow vets.

“It seemed… honorable. It made sense, the rules, the regulations. But it was for a purpose, not just rules for the sake of rules. Rules for justice. I was good at it, I knew what to do and my men were the best men I’ve ever known. They made me who I was… am.”

“Why leave? If you fit there so well?”

“It made sense,” Dick repeated, “Until…” How to encapsulate the moral quandaries nicely? Especially to a man who hadn’t served. The simultaneous pride and shame, the confidence and the uneasiness. He hadn’t committed any war crimes, he hadn’t done anything reprehensible, he would never be able to live with himself if he had. But as he had realized the dark underbelly, the unspoken orders undertaken around him, that’s when he had known this was not the place for him and he had to get out. He was interested in justice, not to be the enforcer of corrupt interests.

“Until?”

“It didn’t.”

Nix hummed thoughtfully and let the conversation end there. Dick was grateful to not be pressed to explain himself any further. It’s not that he didn’t like talking to Nix, but his own thoughts on the matter were so complicated and deeply personal he didn’t know what else he could express in a way that would be satisfactory to himself.

He stood and collected their dishes, taking them to the sink as Nix continued to watch him.

* * *

 

_Thump._

Dick paused and turned to face the door down the hall. He thought he’d heard someone moving in there, but last he knew Nix had been holed up in the library again, busy at work. Though, it had been a at least a day since he’d last seen him and Nix did have a tendency to wander and pop up in odd places.

_Thump._

He might as well check in on Nix, make sure he didn’t need help with something. But as he approached the door his heart started to race. There was a sensation of pinpricks down his spine and his breath caught once he was within touching distance. He lifted his hand and knocked.

No answer.

He tried again, a little louder, this time calling out, “Nix?”

Still nothing.

It wasn’t like Nix to not respond.

Dick started to get worried. Were the noises an indication of trouble? Like maybe Nix had accidentally knocked over some piece of furniture and was trapped beneath, only able to thump at the floor to try to cry for help. That image and fear fueled him and he quickly tried to open the door, only to find it locked. That in itself was odd, Nix had never indicated any part of the house as being off limits and hadn’t locked doors behind himself in the past.

He tried the handle again, this time harder, twisting and shoving at the door, now certain Nix was in grave peril and here he was stuck, trapped from helping by this slab of wood and the metal mechanics of the lock.

He was about to try to grab a tool and break down the door, when he felt like he came back to himself. Common sense cutting through the haze of panic and clearing his head. He was about to try to take a crowbar to a door and he didn’t know for sure that Nix needed saving. He didn’t even know if Nix was in the room.

Check the library first, he thought, trying to pull himself back to rational thinking. Just to be sure. If Nix wasn’t there or in his room, then he could be worried.

The fear still clawed at him, anxiety and adrenaline creating a jittery nausea inducing cocktail in his bloodstream, and he hurried down to the library. Throwing the door open with more force than characteristic, he entered and called out, “Nix?”

“Huh?”

Nix was on his knees in the center of the library, pages upon pages of handwritten notes and diagrams spread around him in a circle. They created a minefield of paper across the floor, Nix at the center with no clear path out from the mess he’d made. He looked dishevelled and dazed and was definitely still wearing the same shirt he had been two days ago. He stared at Dick in confusion.

Relief that Nix was safe coursed through Dick, the anxiety dissolving only to be brought back as he realized just how bizarre a scene he had made. He scrambled for an explanation that would sound more rational than ‘I thought you might be dying based on absolutely no evidence so I almost broke a door down’.

“What’s in the locked room?” He would try to focus on the mysterious noise, rather than his overblown and unjustified fears.

Nix only looked more confused. “What locked room?”

“On the first floor,” Nix didn’t look any more enlightened so Dick continued, trying to find a good reason to press for information about something that he wasn’t necessarily entitled to know. “There might be raccoons,” he offered up lamely, the first thing that came to his mind.

“Raccoons?” Nix echoed dumbly.

“I heard some noises. I’m worried raccoons might’ve found their way in, but the door is locked so I can’t check.”

“Well shit. Uh, I’m sure there’s a key around here somewhere…” Nix looked around the room from where he knelt aimlessly, realizing he didn’t know where said key might be.

In that moment it struck Dick with increasing clarity that Nix hadn’t stepped foot in the house in years up until now. Possibly even before adulthood.

“Nevermind, we can sort it out later.” Dick wanted to put distance between himself and this incident as soon as possible. “I also wanted to know if I could plant a garden?”

He had been meaning to ask and this was as good a time as any, hopefully it could change the focus of the conversation and save him from the embarrassment of how worked up he had gotten. Gardening was a pleasant task and Dick wanted to get seeds in the ground before it got too late in the spring to plant. The greenhouse still wasn’t in any state to be used, so Dick was still at the mercy of the seasons.

“Oh, yeah sure.” Nix acquiesced to this as easily as he did all of Dick’s requests. “Buy whatever you need for it.”

Dick nodded and started to retreat from the room, when he looked at Nix again. Taking in his unkempt state more clearly now that all the panic from earlier had faded away. The same shirt from days ago, the confusion still lingering in Nix’s eyes, the fact that Dick hadn’t seen him in at least a day...

“When’s the last time you ate?”

Nix frowned, the answer taking too long to come to him for Dick’s taste.

“Come on, I’ll make you some eggs and toast.”

Nix nodded and stood, carefully traversing the maze of paper on the floor and following behind Dick obediently as he led them down to the kitchen, the locked room and mysterious noise left forgotten.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must say I’m very excited to be posting chapter 3! Life is crazy, as always, but I love this fic and am glad I’ve finally had time to get an update out!
> 
> Thanks as always to Shreya and Sarah.

Nix had taken to hovering around smoking while Dick tended to his fledgling garden. It was the first thing Nix did in the morning, though for Dick it was a task he undertook well into his day. Nix would stand there, coffee in one hand, cigarette in the other and stare off into space while Dick watered and weeded.

It was pleasant most of the time, Nix still getting his bearings for the day so he provided silent company while Dick worked. Nix didn’t know the first thing about gardening so Dick didn’t have to fear censure or have the unease of someone watching your task over your shoulder, just waiting to correct you. On the occasions Nix spoke it was either some observation about the garden that acknowledged Dick as the one with superior planting skills or it was something completely unrelated that came from whatever it was Nix was standing around silently mulling over.

“She was seventeen.”

So it was going to be one of those days. “Who?” Dick humored him, not looking up from his work.

“My sister.”

That gave Dick pause and he sat back on his heels, looking up at Nix. “When she…?”

Nix nodded, still staring off in the middle distance. “Mother had died a few years before. And I left her here. With him.”

Dick looked at him in question, silently asking for an explanation. Nix’s eyes flicked to him, but he looked away again before he answered.

“My father. I knew what he was and I left her. I was off in goddamn Paris.” He snorted and took another drag from his cigarette. “Next thing I know I’m being summoned home because Blanche went and killed herself while I was too busy getting drunk by the Seine to notice a fucking thing.”

Dick had no idea what to say to that, but he could hear the guilt and self hatred thick in Nix’s tone. “It wasn’t your fault,” he began carefully.

“I should’ve taken her with me.” It was almost a snarl, harsher than anything Nix usually said to Dick, though even this was directed more to himself than Dick.

Dick fell silent, if Nix didn’t want his sympathy he wasn’t going to force the issue. Especially when he wasn’t sure how exactly to comfort and reassure him on this matter. He’d known Nix’s sister had died, but he hadn’t realized it was by suicide. The guilt Nix obviously felt was understandable, Dick was familiar with survivor’s guilt, but he didn’t know enough about the whole story to feel like he could effectively soothe Nix over it. Nix was sure to have a rebuttal to anything he tried to say.

“They never told me which house she did it in, but I know it had to be this one or the one out in California,” Nix mused, waving his cigarette as he spoke, “Father fucked off down to Florida afterwards, but he’d been back to New York and New Jersey since. I know he hadn’t been here in years.” He snorted and took a final drag. “I always thought she probably did it here.” He tossed his cigarette at the ground derisively, like a symbolic affront to this place and his father.

Dick wouldn’t have reacted, save for the fact that this  _ was  _ his garden and he didn’t want cigarette butts littering the ground. He couldn’t help but make a slight face and mentally add picking it up and disposing of it properly to his list of chores.

Nix caught him and sighed, slinking over sheepishly to pick it up from where he’d thrown it and take it back to his ashtray. He averted his gaze from Dick and took a sip of his coffee.

Dick settled in to get back to work, when Nix spoke up. 

“The garden’s looking good,” he offered, sounding like he was trying to apologize.

Dick smiled, letting Nix know it was fine. “Thanks. It’s still not where I’d like it to be, but it’s getting there. Certainly better than it was.”

Nix nodded. “Hell of a lot better than it was. I mean, it was in rough shape when I got here, but you probably couldn’t have noticed the difference since before and after I arrived. You though? You’ve made a world of difference.”

“It’s what I’m being paid for.”

Nix shook his head. “Shit like this? The garden? That’s going above and beyond.”

Dick ducked his head, the compliments warmed him, but he was never good at accepting praise like that. Especially not when Nix just kept going with it. But he did appreciate it and made sure to smile at Nix who smiled back.

They went back to their usual companionable silence, Dick working and Nix standing around, until Nix mumbled something about getting more coffee and wandered off back towards the house.

There wasn’t much left to do in the garden. The little sprouts were coming along well and Dick had been keeping a careful eye on weeds and insects. With that task done he sat back and stretched, then stood and twisted his spine to work out any last tension. He’d wash up a bit and head to the store next.

Walking into the kitchen, he found that Nix had left to go elsewhere in the house, rather than linger around. He washed his hands thoroughly, making sure to get every last speck of dirt around his nails and up his wrists. It was still spring so the weather wasn’t too hot yet and simple weeding didn’t turn into hot sweaty work that would require a shower, so as soon as his hands were clean, he walked over to the fridge to inspect the grocery list. It seemed Nix had added a last minute request for Camembert before vanishing deeper into the house.

Dick pulled out a piece of paper and dutifully recorded the list before wiping the whiteboard clean. He folded up the paper in his pocket and retrieved the keys to Nix’s car, already debating what to listen to on the long drive into town. He settled on a program, tuning into the softly spoken story about a young preacher in Louisiana trying to connect faith with the modern age. The juxtaposition of old time belief and the mysticism that came with it versus the cold calculations and hard facts of now and how to reconcile them.

He pulled up outside the store. It sat at the center of the nearest town to the house. The town itself was small, but it wasn’t without plenty to offer. The grocery store was fully stocked, even offering more niche items than Dick could remember the grocery store in his childhood town having. He was glad for it given it was enough of a drive to get to, he didn't want to have to go all the way to the city regularly in order to chase down Nix’s more luxurious desires.

He fell into his routine, starting with dried and canned goods, filling the cart with whatever was heaviest, then going aisle by aisle, leaving the most perishable and fragile items for last. It didn’t take him long, he knew the layout of the store well enough by now and his shopping list didn’t vary so much that he struggled to find anything. He smiled at the young girl running the register, he saw her there nearly every time he came in.

She grinned and greeted him. “I could set my watch to you, you come in like clockwork!”

“It’s a bit of a drive to get here so I like to make it a planned trip.” He liked talking to her, the small talk felt a lot like his hometown. The interest in outsiders and the ease of familiarity now that he was a known quantity.

Though, still mysterious enough to get her asking questions.

She nodded in understanding. “Lots of folks come in from a ways away, how far out is your place?”

Dick had started packing his frozen and refrigerated items into his reusable cooler bag, he always tried to keep up the pace with her scanning so they would finish their respective tasks around the same time. “About an hour drive.”

She let out a low whistle. “You up north?” There was a tiny town up that way, too small to have more than a little store to provide only the most basic needs so most people came down for their full grocery shops.

“No, east.”

She frowned, obviously trying to think of where he might live.

“Outside of town, it’s set back on its own.”

“Oh, you got a little cabin out in the woods to yourself?”

“No, it’s a large property. Big house on some land.”

“A farm?”

“No.”

Her frown deepened. “I grew up here and I can’t think of a place like that except the old Nixon estate.”

Dick nodded.

Her eyes widened. “You’ve gotta be kidding! That place is abandoned!”

“I’m not.”

“No one’s lived there in years!”

“Well, we do now.” It was a little odd she didn’t know Nix had moved in a few months before Dick had arrived. News like that usually spread like wildfire through more rural areas, but the estate was a full hour away and Nix kept to himself. It was reasonable that no one may have noticed yet.

“We?” That tidbit sparked her interest enough to drop her line of questioning on the house.

He was about to say himself and his employer, but something stopped him. He didn’t know that he liked thinking of himself and Nix in those terms. It felt too cold and unfamiliar for what they were. Him and his friend? That could also be odd, raise more questions than it answered.

“We,” he settled on, giving her a hint of a smile.

She shook her head, grinning. “Have it your way.”

He paid and gathered up his bags, wishing her a good day as he left.

By the time he got home and finished unloading the groceries it was well into the afternoon and though there was more work to be done, there always was, it felt like a good afternoon for a cup of tea and a book. Dick didn’t like to interrupt Nix unless necessary, but at this point he knew he could slip in and out of the library near undetected. Nix never seemed to mind his presence anyway.

He was making his way there when he passed by one of the sitting rooms and caught a ghostly figure out of the corner of his eye. Standing, looming in the room as the gauzy white fabric of its unidentifiable garment flowed around it.

He backtracked and turned, expecting to see nothing of any consequence, but instead found Nix. He was laid out on a chaise lounge, still wearing his silk robe from earlier. One of his arms had dropped and was hanging limply over the side of the chaise, his curled fingers almost reaching the ground. Dick’s heart plummeted taking in the scene. He looked almost deathly pale in the light that filtered through the semi transparent curtain that hung over the tall window behind him and he was so unnaturally still he didn’t even look to be breathing.

Dick was at his side in an instant, hand reaching out to touch Nix’s face with no care for personal boundaries. His skin felt cooler than it should and Dick was quick to press his fingers to his neck, Nix’s pulse a slow steady thud beneath his fingertips. Dick sighed in relief, his lungs emptying in one great heave as his shoulders dropped.

Not dead, just passed out. Unsurprising after their conversation earlier. Dick’s fingers curled more fully around the side of Nix’s neck, the skin there warmer than that on his face. The side of his hand rested against the collar of Nix’s robe, the silk providing a sharp contrast to the stubble of Nix’s skin. He watched Nix’s chest, counting his breaths and finding them sufficiently regular. Nix’s expression was smooth and peaceful and Dick found himself trailing a finger up from his neck. He had just traced it around the curve of Nix’s jaw when he caught himself and pulled his hand back abruptly.

It was an embarrassing display of… something. Certainly not the clinical checking after Nix’s wellbeing he should have been engaging in. Really, as soon as he determined Nix was just passed out drunk and not in danger he should have let him be.

He considered moving him briefly, he knew he could carry Nix up to bed. But really there was no reason to disturb him. He was already laid out peacefully and the chaise was probably better as it kept him on his side more easily than a bed would.

Satisfied he had done his due diligence, he got up. The curtain behind Nix fluttered slightly. That had to have been what Dick saw when he first passed the room.

He was being ridiculous. Everything from thinking he had seen a figure to his leap to the conclusion that Nix was dead, despite his knowledge of Nix’s habits. And his overly familiar display towards Nix. Utterly foolish. He really did need the afternoon off. A nice book to get lost in, take his mind off things. He continued off towards the library, more determined than before.

* * *

 

Dick was considering what to make for lunch when Nix came in. He was actually dressed for the day, though Dick wasn’t sure if he’d been up a while or not. Most likely not. Still, he didn’t look in bad shape, and his company over lunch would be enjoyable.

“I’m about to make lunch, want to join me?”

“Sure.” Nix took his place leaning against the counter near Dick, though not so close to be in the way. “What’re you making?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Nix hummed, then asked, “Got a busy day planned?”

“I thought I might go check out the secret garden again.” Now that summer was upon them and everything was in full bloom, the gardens by the house flourishing under Dick’s care, the mystery of what lay over the walls was pulling at him more.

Nix perked up at that. “Oh?”

Dick nodded. “After I clear out more of the glass from the greenhouse.”

Nix groaned, “Skip that, let’s have an adventure!”

“You’re going to join me venturing into the great outdoors?” Dick couldn’t help the good natured tease.

Nix ignored the dig. “We’ll pack a picnic, make a thing of it!”

The joyous eagerness in Nix’s voice was hard to say no to. He was in rare form, buoyed by the idea of exploring the garden in a way Dick had rarely, if ever, seen. He couldn’t help but smile in the face of it and agree, putting together sandwiches as Nix wandered off in search of a basket and a suitable picnic blanket.

“I didn’t take you for the picnic sort,” Dick said when Nix returned, basket and blanket in tow.

“You know, I used to go on picnics in France.” Dick raised his eyebrow slightly and Nix conceded, “Though, they were more the fancy cheese and wine sort. I don’t suppose that’s your type of picnic?”

“Sandwiches and water today.”

Nix handed over the basket with a dramatic sigh, “Not very romantic, but I suppose I’ll allow it.” 

“I wasn’t aware this was a romantic adventure.”

“Adventures are always romantic. By nature. Especially adventures with picnics.”

Dick was sure Nix had only intended it as a joke, but the implications were more than he wanted to grapple with right now. “I still think you need a date for it to really count as romantic.”

It took Nix a moment to respond. “I meant capital R Romantic. Keats and Shelley and all. Nature, emotion, the sublime. It’s inherent in adventure.” 

So it wasn’t even a joke really. Dick was just reading too much into Nix’s words and giving them a leaning that wasn’t even intended. He should’ve known Nix was making a reference, he peppered his conversations with bits of literature and philosophy. Though not unaware of the meanings, Dick didn’t feel he knew enough about any of the other subjects to engage in the verbal sparring Nix sometimes tried to initiate, so instead he nodded and set their food in the basket.

There was a slight awkward tension between them as they walked from the house, Dick carrying the basket and Nix carrying the blanket, but by the time they passed the greenhouse it had faded. They reached the nearest wall of the secret garden before long and Nix threw out the blanket in a big billow of fabric, bringing it down gently over the grass.

He sprawled out on the blanket and grinned up at Dick. “Come on, let’s see those sandwiches.”

Dick took his seat, sitting cross legged, while Nix laid out on his side, propping himself up on an elbow. 

“I hope it’s satisfactory picnic fare,” Dick said as he handed out the food.

Nix took a bite and chewed slowly, frowning like he was carefully considering the flavors, then delicately swirled his water bottle and took a sip. “It’s no Sancerre and chèvre, but I’d say you’ve done an excellent job with the catering.”

Dick let out a barely audible snort of a laugh, Nix’s over the top display toeing the edge between self awareness and a complete lack of it. Nix beamed up at him, pleased to have made Dick laugh. They ate their sandwiches quickly, the food was good, but the point of this venture was to see about accessing the secret garden, not the picnic.

Nix sat up and stretched. “So how do you want to do this?”

“We could try to cut through the vines and brush until we find the gate. I’ve got clippers back at the house.”

Nix shook his head. “No, who knows how long we’d be hacking away at it. I don’t even know where the gate is so we’d probably have to clear around the whole damn thing before we found it. Let’s just get over the top.”

Dick looked up at the top of the stone wall in consideration. There were plenty of vines grown over it that could help as footholds, though the stone looked worn and loose in some areas, so it wasn’t necessarily going to be easy footing. “Didn’t you try and fail to get in that way before?”

“I was younger then. Shorter. And I didn’t have you to help.”

“Alright.”

It was difficult going, even Dick, who was far more athletic than Nix, was struggling to reach past the halfway mark on the wall. Every time he thought he had finally found a solid hold to continue on he’d slip or a vine would rip away from the stone. He tried going from different points, seeing if there was anywhere that might be stronger or afford a better grip.

Nix wasn’t faring any better, but rather than tired and bored from the exercise he was alive with a youthful joy. He laughed when he slid down yet again. “Damn. You see what I’ve been up against?”

Dick nodded. “I didn’t think it would be quite this hard.” He hadn’t thought it would be easy, but it was proving a far more challenging task than it looked. The vexation of failure was only making him more determined to figure out a way in.

“Here, what if you boost me? You’re stronger than I am, just give me a shove if I start to slip.”

“Okay.” Dick took his place behind Nix to spot him. “If this doesn’t work I’m going to go get the clippers.”

“Fine, fine. This’ll work though.” Nix started up the wall, grabbing vines and rocks and feeling out footholds. He wobbled a little when he was partway up and Dick quickly reached out and grabbed him by the back of his thigh, giving him enough balance to continue on. It was slow going, but between the two of them, Nix was finally able to get his hands on the top of the wall. Dick linked his fingers together to form a base for Nix’s foot to give him the last bit of leverage he needed to reach the top.

Nix swung his leg up to straddle the wall, carefully turning himself on his stomach so his body was balanced atop. He slowly got to a crouching position, then stood, moving cautiously and just a bit shakily. As soon as he straightened up he threw his arms out dramatically, grinning down at Dick, and opened his mouth, looking every bit like he was about to make some grand proclamation, but before he could speak he lost his balance and tumbled down to the ground.

Dick was on him in an instant, grateful that Nix had fallen to the outside rather than over the wall into the garden. His hands scrambled over Nix’s chest futilely as he tried to assess the damage and see what needed tending. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alright, I’m fine,” Nix sat up slowly with Dick’s help. He leaned against Dick’s arm around his back, resting his head against Dick’s shoulder and letting him bear his weight for a moment before he sat up more fully. “God, I must’ve looked like a jackass up there.”

He had, but that wasn’t Dick’s primary concern. “You’re sure you aren’t hurt?” Dick ran his eyes over him again, trying to assess for damage.

“Just my ego.”

“Well, that’s alright then.”

“Dick!” Nix’s expression turned quickly to mock offense. “You wound me!”

Dick stood and offered Nix a hand. “Let’s get you back to the house before you wound more than just your ego, Mr. Adventure.” He smiled as Nix took it and helped haul him up to his feet. They gathered their picnic supplies and headed back to the house.

They parted ways inside, retreating to their own rooms for changes of clothes and showers. Dick gathered what he needed, then walked out into the hall towards his bathroom. He could hear the shower further down the hall by Nix’s room, the heavy flow of water through the old pipes in the walls followed soon by music. The sound slightly tinny as it pumped through phone speakers and echoed in the bathroom.

Nix always played music when he bathed. Dick didn’t understand the impulse, treasuring the quiet calm of a shower. A time for silent reflection. He’d asked Nix about it once, who had quirked his lips and said something about how you always needed a tether to bring you back.

He got to his own bathroom and quickly stripped and climbed into the clawfoot tub. He was showering today, the focus being getting clean after traipsing about outside, but he thought he might take a bath later for the relaxation. It was a nice deep tub, large enough that he could get properly submerged without feeling like a giant in a child’s bath with his legs all folded up.

He sighed, letting the hot spray from the showerhead wash over him, slicking his hair to his head and running in soothing rivulets down his body. Despite the age of the pipes, the water pressure was impeccable. Dick was glad for it, nothing irritated him quite like a weak shower. When it barely dripped out and you had to stand there for ages never quite feeling like you were truly rinsed off. The irritating conviction that there was still some soap residue left on you somewhere. It was enough of an annoyance that Dick probably would’ve tried to take his own hand to fixing the plumbing were the water pressure bad, and though he was fairly confident in his own handyman skills, he was glad it was a non issue and he could just enjoy the shower.

Even with two showers going, there was no dip in either the pressure or the abundance of hot water. He took another few moments to enjoy that fact, before he grabbed his shampoo and got to actually cleaning himself. As he worked his hair up into a lather he thought over the picnic. The lighthearted fun, then the fear when Nix had fallen. The relief when Nix was okay. The feeling of Nix in his arms, holding him, looking down at him.

Nix, just down the hall, nude in his own shower. 

It was a tantalizing thought.

He closed his eyes and tipped his head back to rinse as his mind started to focus in more on Nix. He imagined Nix was probably washing his hair too right now. It was thicker than Dick’s, longer too. It probably took a little more time to wash the suds out fully. And from there, down his body.

Dick had seen enough to know Nix had more chest hair than him. Not too much, at least from what Dick had seen. But the hair was dark so it stood out more than Dick’s red did. He imagined it ran down the length of his chest and lower.

Dick opened his eyes. He was no stranger to fantasizing, but it had been a long time since his libido had come at him full force like this. With such an object of focus, clear images, a specific person. It felt wrong to think about Nix like this, Nix was his friend, and yet… he could feel a stirring interest between his legs already.

What if Nix were to join him in the shower? The heat of the water becoming secondary to the heat of their bodies as they pressed together, skin slick and clean. They might kiss, holding tight to one another, hands smoothing over bodies then grabbing as the kiss deepened.

Maybe Nix would drop to his knees, leaving Dick to brace himself with a hand against the wall, the other coming down to hold onto Nix’s wet hair as best he could. He could see it in his mind’s eye. Nix’s hair pitch black from the water, a flush in his pale skin from the heat, kneeling before Dick and looking up at him. The sideways grin he’d give before he moved in. The way he’d probably tease with just his lips first, moving around maddeningly until finally he had mercy and took Dick into his mouth properly.

Dick was fully hard now and he took himself in hand, stroking quickly. He lost himself in the fantasy, closing his eyes and focusing on how Nix would bob his head. Up and down, following the rhythm Dick was setting with his hand. Swallowing down around him and moving faster as he brought Dick to the edge. Dick swallowed back a moan as he came, the release leaving him lax and tingling with satisfaction.

It unfortunately only lasted a moment before the mortification of what he’d just done slammed into him at full force, driving out any last bit of enjoyment. Nix was his friend. His  _ boss. _  He had no business fantasizing about him. Pleasuring himself to fantasies of him.

Dick washed himself with rough efficiency, as if scrubbing his skin free of sweat and dirt would wipe away the memory of his fantasy. But it seemed that now he’d done it, it brought feelings to the forefront that he’d been ignoring for too long. He was interested in Nix. And he had absolutely no idea what to do about that fact.

If it weren’t for the fact that they lived together, Dick would probably try to take some space to sort out his feelings. But as it was the best he could do was try to avoid Nix in the house. At least for a while. He hoped Nix would retreat to the library after his own shower so he could be spared having to face him until at least dinnertime.

Fortunately, by the time Dick was dry and dressed Nix was nowhere to be found. Dick hoped he’d feel settled enough in a few hours that he could act normal around him. He resolved to find a more difficult recipe to make for dinner, that way he could lose himself in the prep work for a few hours, letting the task take over while he processed his newly confirmed burgeoning crush. Well, feelings. ‘Crush’ felt too juvenile a word, but ‘desire’ felt too dramatic. He resolved to get specific at a later date.

The cooking was almost as soothing as he’d hoped, double and triple checking the steps, carefully moving through each stage of prep. He was so focused that he almost missed his phone lighting up with a video call.

He wiped his hands quickly and swiped to answer, smiling as Harry and Kitty’s faces came into view.

“Hi, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“It’s been too long since we’ve seen you!” Kitty answered. “How are you? What’s going on? How’s the garden?” She fired off questions like it was an interrogation.

Dick laughed, just seeing his friends giving him a sense of ease that the cooking hadn’t. “Good. I’m good. The garden’s coming in well, I’m actually using some stuff from it for dinner tonight. How are you?”

“We’re good,” Harry answered.

“How’s the baby?”

“Growing. And  _ growing. _  And I’m growing too.”

The picture moved, video becoming blurry and disorienting, and next thing to come clear was a full on shot of Kitty’s middle and Harry’s grinning face next to it. “Say hi to your Uncle Dick!”

The camera went askew again as Kitty could be hear yelling out “Harry!” It was another moment before it focused back on their faces, Kitty smiling with a slight tinge of good natured embarrassment and Harry grinning like he’d gotten away with something.

Dick let the moment slide without comment, happy to enjoy it and careful to not push Kitty into actually feeling embarrassed. “What else is going on?”

“That’s about it. Same old same old, but more and more baby stuff. You are going to make it to the baby shower aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.”

“Are you going to bring Nix?”

The question took Dick aback, he stood there silently for a few moments, just blinking and staring at his phone. “...should I?”

“Well…” Kitty hesitated, obviously being very careful in choosing her words, “I just want you to know he’s welcome. You know anyone you’re with is welcome.”

Dick felt like his reality had been turned on its head. They thought he was with Nix.  _ They thought Nix was his boyfriend. _  Did they think he’d been too scared to let them know he was seeing someone? Or that he was so intensely private that he’d kept the fact that he was moving in with someone to himself until  _ just  _ before he’d gone and done it?

And he hadn’t really helped himself had he? He’d already been implying he’d known Nix much longer than he really had. He’d practically handed them all the implications without realizing exactly what he was implying. And even now he didn’t want to deny it. It wasn’t true, but the idea that he could have this little fantasy was so appealing.

He realized he’d been silent far too long and the two of them were starting to look anxious. He smiled quickly. “Thank you. I know that. I’ll ask him if he’d like to join.”

The two of them smiled, their anxiety lifting. “We’d love to meet him,” Kitty said. 

“Really make him part of the family proper, you know?” Harry tacked on with a wink.

Just then, right as Dick already felt the spinning revelations handed to him from his friends, Nix walked into the room, his arrival truly knocking the ground from beneath Dick’s feet. Dick scrambled to come up with something to say, anything that would seem normal to Nix, but also shut down the subject from Harry and Kitty.

His gaze being drawn away from the phone wasn’t unnoticed.

“Is that him?” He heard Harry ask and he looked back, nodding.

“Is that your friend from the city?” Nix asked, hearing Harry’s voice as the video call was on speakerphone.

Dick nodded to him as well. He felt like he was watching a train crash and had no idea what to do about it.

“Well tell him to come over!” Kitty said happily.

Dick obediently waved a hand at Nix, beckoning him over. Now instead of a mere bystander, Dick was conducting this train off the rails. He had broken off the brake lever and was steering them down a broken track towards a head on collision.

Nix rounded the island counter and just as he reached Dick’s side and Dick started to angle the phone to bring him into the picture, the video ended.

“Oh.”

“Call drop?”

Dick nodded, hitting the button to retry and being told the network was too weak. The relief of that realization was overwhelming. Still, he put a tinge of frustration in his voice as he said, “Oh for Pete’s sake.”

“Signal dead again?”

Dick nodded. The ongoing internet issues were vexing and normally Dick would get a bit worked up about why technology didn’t just work right. But now this meant there was time for him to figure out exactly how to get himself out of the predicament he’d created. He texted Harry a quick apology that the call couldn’t connect anymore and hoped by whenever it went through and Harry got back to him, he’d have sorted out some plan to address what had happened.

“This looks fancy.” Dick looked up and found Nix surveying the half done dinner prep. It was admittedly a lot more complex than most of Dick’s cooking.

“Yeah, with things coming in in the garden I thought I’d try my hand at something a little more involved than I usually do.”

“Can’t wait to try it.”

Dick nodded and looked down at it, picking back up his knife and hoping he could get back into the soothing cooking headspace. Nix lingering wasn’t helping, not after everything that had happened today. He knew he was blushing faintly and stared more resolutely at the vegetables he was chopping.

They spent some time in silence. Dick could feel Nix’s presence in the room, but as he kept working he felt more and more at ease. Nix didn’t seem to have noticed anything odd and by the time Dick was done with his prep it felt like one of their easy silences, no tense edges to it at all. He turned and looked to Nix, opening his mouth to make some inconsequential comment, but when he saw Nix all thought of that flew out of his head.

" _Nix._ "

Nix had the good grace to look ashamed, nearly slamming the cheese coated cracker in his hand back down onto the counter like a guilty toddler caught with a hand in the cookie jar.

“I’m making dinner right now!” Dick wasn’t sure if he was more incredulous or amused.

“I wanted brie!” It was a weak defense and Nix knew it.

“You’re going to ruin your appetite.”

“I’m a grown man.” Nix popped the cracker in his mouth petulantly, but packed up the rest of his snack and started putting it away.

“Sometimes I wonder.”

Nix gave him the finger from over by the fridge and Dick had the good grace to ignore it.

Dick had things well underway when Nix made his way back over to his side, moving easily into Dick’s space and peeking into the various pots on the stove from over Dick’s shoulder. Dick stirred and let him observe. Nix ended up settling leaning against the counter right by Dick’s side and somewhere in Dick’s mind a question he’d shelved a long time ago sprung back to the forefront.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Hm?”

“The girl at the grocery store didn’t know you had moved in, where have you been going grocery shopping before I got here?”

Nix looked a bit confused by the line of questioning, but answered easily, “Oh, well… you know those grocery delivery services? I tried to do that…”

“They deliver all the way out here?”

Nix grinned ruefully. “Well that’s the thing. They don’t. Not until I found this one service that was willing to deliver to anyone anywhere. But the thing about  _ that  _ is there wasn’t great communication about exactly when they were going to be delivered.”

“That seems odd.”

“Well…” He was definitely sounding more embarrassed now. “I guess it wasn’t  _ miscommunication  _ so much as a… longer window of potential delivery times than I would’ve liked. And… I missed it.”

That still wasn’t quite enough to explain his hesitance. Dick looked at him, waiting for him to go on.

“I missed it multiple times. And by the last one they were so fed up they just left the groceries by the gate. I found it all out there rotting a few days later.”

It wasn’t the answer Dick had been expecting and though he had asked, he didn’t really want to hear any more. His amusement at the absurdity of the story warred with the sad truth that Nix hadn’t mentioned. That he’d likely been too drunk or sleeping at odd hours and that’s why he missed every single grocery delivery. It still didn’t exactly answer Dick’s question. Where  _ had  _ Nix been getting his groceries? But it was a distracting enough anecdote that he didn’t even notice.

“Go set the table.”

Nix looked happy about the change in subject and was quick to obey as Dick finished the final stages of cooking.

* * *

 

The thunking noise in the attic had started up again. Dick set down his duster and started to walk slowly down the gallery. It was an intermittent noise, though it had been coming with more frequency as of late. He could never pinpoint exactly where it was coming from, but as he crept forward he thought he might be nearing the source. At least, reaching the point that was directly under it. If he could figure that out perhaps he could extrapolate his position up and use that to try to determine its location. It was maddening how it had continued to elude him. There was something about it that felt different from the banging of the radiators and settling of the old house. There were plenty of thumps and creaks throughout the house, all with perfectly reasonable explanations, but this one vexed Dick. It’s not that he thought it was any less ordinary than the rest, but the not knowing was troubling, like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

“That’s where I keep my first wife,” Nix said solemnly, appearing out of nowhere behind Dick.

Dick whirled around and stared in horror as Nix looked at him impassively, giving no indication that he’d said anything out of the ordinary. The moment stretched on uncomfortably until Nix’s blank expression broke and he gave a small frown.

“...Jane Eyre? The wife kept locked in the attic?”

Dick remained quiet and Nix took on the look of someone who had tried and failed to make a reference and who realized attempting to explain would only lead to digging a deeper hole, creating the awkward situation of over explaining a joke that might not have been very good to begin with. He gave Dick a halfhearted side smile and continued down the hall.

“So that makes you Rochester. Who am I?” Dick called after him.

Nix stopped and smirked over his shoulder. “Take your pick. Though I think you’d make a compelling Jane.” 

He turned the corner and disappeared, leaving Dick to contemplate exactly what he meant by that. The potential implications warmed him, adding fuel to his growing feelings. But he knew Nix didn’t necessarily mean it that way. He just hoped he did. He knew he would be analyzing this for a while, but that didn’t mean he should stop working. He picked up the duster again and returned to his work.

The noise in the attic had stopped.


End file.
